


Never Too Late

by AthenaGC94



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Family Issues, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Meet-Cute, Mythology References, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:34:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27107284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AthenaGC94/pseuds/AthenaGC94
Summary: Persy didn't heed her mother's advice. She said that she'd hate being a farmer and she'd be back in Grampleton by the end of the year. And she might have had a point, but Persy is determined to make Spring Green Farm work. She's determined to carve her own path. Sebastian offered himself as a distraction when she first arrived at Pelican Town and she is taking full advantage of it, but when she meets Elliott at the Luau Festival, she's begins to learn that maybe it's alright that she doesn't have everything figured out just yet... just maybe.
Relationships: Elliott/Female Player (Stardew Valley), Sebastian/Female Player (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

Persy’s mother told her she’d never make it as a farmer.

And she might have a point, but Persy would never give her the satisfaction of knowing she had been right. She could see her mother’s smug smirk now. Hear the condescension dripping in her voice as she said, _“See. You should have stayed in Grampleton like I told you to. Mother knows best, after all.”_ No. Persy wouldn’t go home yet. She wouldn’t work at the stupid sawmill just like everyone else living in that god awful town. And she certainly wouldn’t fall back under her mother’s thumb. She moved to Pelican Town to carve out her own path and she fully intended to follow through on those plans. 

She just needed to figure out the whole farming thing first. Which was proving to be a little harder than she anticipated, but she would make it work. She made Zuzu City work… for a little while. How hard could it be - running a farm? Well, the answer was _very_ hard, but she was trying to be optimistic. In the meantime, she needed to figure out a way to make money. Her funds dipped dangerously low over the last few months and if she didn’t come up with an alternative form of income fast, she’d be back on her parent’s doorstep by winter. 

And that was the last thing she wanted.

“You could work part-time at Joja Mart with me? I think they’re looking for more cashiers.”

Persy wrinkled her nose at Sam, who lay sprawled out in the sand at her feet, like her cat basking in the midmorning sun. “I just got out of Joja’s corporate clutches,” she said irritably, “I’m not about to jump right back in for half the pay I was making before.” 

She had to shout over the music that filtered from the speakers on the dance floor. Today was the Luau Festival. The first event she found the time to attend since arriving in town almost five months ago. Before then, her time had been spent toiling over her grandfather’s land - Spring Green Farms - and turning it into something salvageable. 

She cleared a decent plot of land to plant some crops by the middle of spring, but it appeared she hadn’t inherited her grandfather’s green thumb when it came to growing things like parsnips and strawberries. She didn’t think it would come easy, but she never anticipated it would be this hard to get something to grow. There was still a lot of work to be done, but she was at her wits end. So, for her sanity’s sake, she decided to fuck it and attend the festival with Sebastian, Abigail, and Sam.

She sat huddled in a small circle with them near the lapping waves of the crystalline ocean that stretched as far as the eye could see. The mist from the waves soothed her burning skin, flushed with heat from the beating sun overhead. The smell of salt and brine hung thick in the air, a welcome change from the smell of wood and earth that normally followed her wherever she went.

Sebastian took a long drag of his cigarette before saying, “you could always work at the Saloon with Emily? I’m sure she’d appreciate the help and you could make pretty decent money too. She always has the cash to drop on fabric for her clothing projects. You just have to be willing to chat up the patrons for tips.”

“I don’t think being a bartender is really my speed,” Persy said with a heavy sigh, “after a day in the fields, the last thing I’d want to do is schmooze for tips. And having to deal with people like Pam and Shane?” She shuddered at the thought. “Yeah, no thanks.”

Abigail glanced up from the sand drawing she spent the last twenty minutes working on. Persy wasn’t quite sure what it was meant to be, but she noted the familiar shape of slimes that frequented the mines amongst her various doodles. “I could ask my dad if he’d be willing to hire you on.” She gave her a teasing wink and turned back to her drawing. “Then maybe he’ll stop asking me to help out around the shop.”

Persy chuckled as she finished off the rest of her drink. “Yeah, I doubt he’ll go for it though,” she said, “why would he pay me when he can have you do it for free?”

“Ugh, but how am I supposed to become a member of the adventurers guild if I’m spending all my free time stocking shelves at the store,” she groaned. 

Sam shrugged and said, “well, who knows, maybe the crop fairies will pay your fields a visit soon and make everything grow overnight? There. Problem solved.”

Persy snorted and let her head fall back against the totem poles she and Sebastian were propped up against. “What, are you twelve? There’s no such thing as _crop fairies_.”

A frown toyed on Sam’s mouth. “Hey, don’t diss the crop fairies.”

Sebastian managed an amused smile as he added, “tsk, tsk, offending the crop fairies is a mortal sin. Maybe this is why all your plants are dying?”

Abigail nodded gravely, her drawing now forgotten as she traced some kind of strange sign over her chest. “It’s gotta be a punishment for being a nonbeliever,” she said firmly, “to get back in their good graces, you have to do two laps around your fields, water all your plants twice, then leave them an offering of fairy rose honey on your porch.”

Yeah… Like she had the money to afford fairy rose honey.

“Alright, so, I may not know a lot about crops, but watering them twice will drown the poor things. Besides, that sounds like an old wives tale,” Persy said with a roll of her eyes, “and until I see proof of these fairies, I’m not buying it. If they want to kill my crops, fine. They won’t kill my spirit. I don’t need their stupid magic to make my farm into something great.” Sam and Abigail exchanged weary looks. True believers, it seemed.

Sam propped himself onto his elbows and looked her dead in the eyes. “The fairies will remember that.”

“The fairies can kiss my ass.” She pushed herself off the ground and brushed the sand from the front of her jeans. “I’m going to get some more punch,” she said, “I’ll be right back.”

Persy made her way towards the refreshments table on the other side of the beach, pointedly ignoring the small crowd that gathered around the potluck soup at the center of the festivities. The Luau was supposed to be a communal pot where everyone contributed, but she had nothing to offer. So, she avoided it like the plague. 

When she arrived earlier in the day, Mayor Lewis caught her eye and nodded towards the pot with a wide, almost expectant, grin. With the governor in town, he wanted to make a good impression. That meant everyone needed to contribute to make the pot _something special_. Gag her. He probably assumed the town’s only farmer would have something to throw in, but he was sorely mistaken. She threw him a thumbs up then immediately disappeared amongst the crowd, half tempted to drown herself in the ocean out of shame. 

All her hard work over the last few months and she had nothing to show for it. Every single crop she planted had yet to sprout. Not one thing. 

She reached the punch bowl and quickly ladled a few scoops of the saccharine liquid into her cup. It was much too sweet and she was fairly certain Pam had thrown a little something extra in it, but it took the edge off so she wasn’t complaining. As she took a sip of the drink, she tried to look on the bright side. With the festival, she didn’t have to worry about scrounging up enough money to eat that evening. Maybe they’d even hand out leftovers and she could push off the inevitable awhile longer.

“Ah, it’s you!”

Persy jumped, the contents of her drink sloshing over the side of the cup and down her chin. She quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand and glanced in the direction of the voice. She found a man standing beside her. A man who looked terribly out of place. Like he recently stepped out of a period romance novel, with sweeping red hair pulled back in a low ponytail and claret double-breasted suitcoat. By all accounts, a bizarre choice for the middle of summer… and a beach. But he pulled it off, which just wasn’t fair. He gave her a warm smile that showed off the shallow dimples on his cheeks.

“You must be the new farmer everyone’s been raising a fuss about.”

She blinked, then again. She fully expected him to disappear. He couldn’t possibly be real, right? But he didn’t disappear. No. He stayed right where he was, looking not unlike a charming prince in a fairytale. His smile widened as he took her warmly by the hand and shook it. “My name is Elliott Underwood. I live in the cabin over there.” He nodded over his shoulder to a shoddy little shack on the far end of the beach, still beaming at her. A shack she assumed lay abandoned and not the home of someone like him. She peered between him and it, not quite believing him.

“It seems my time is getting away from me these days. I completely forgot the festivities were taking place today, so when I stepped out my door this morning, the party was already in full swing.” He threw his head back and laughed, a heavy sound that rumbled deep in his chest and warmed Persy to her core. She tried to ignore the fuzzy feeling that blossomed in her chest. 

“What can I call you? I don’t think ‘farmer’ would be appropriate, yeah?”

She cleared her throat softly and said, “Persephone Chastain. It’s a pleasure.”

His eyes widened a fraction, glimmering with admiration. “Persephone?” Her name rolled off his tongue like a sweet wine. “What a beautiful name.” His expression softened so his green eyes glittered in the light, like sparkling emeralds. “And so poetic, the goddess of springtime if I’m not mistaken?”

“You’d be correct,” she said with a small smile, “but it’s a mouthful, so most people just call me Persy.”

“Certainly not,” Elliott said with a fervent shake of his head, “a name as beautiful as yours should never be shortened. It would be an insult to use anything but your name. Persephone.” 

The way he said her name… Her heart fluttered in her chest. If this were a romance novel, she would have swooned in his arms. And with one of those charming smiles he would carry her off to his shack, lay her out on his bed, and ravish her into the wee hours of the morning, preferably on a bed of rose petals. But this wasn’t a romance novel. And she wasn’t the type of person to swoon over anyone. Besides, she was still half convinced that he was a hallucination brought on by heatstroke. It was unbearably hot out that day and she’d been working under the beating sun that morning. Maybe she finally lost it.

“Delicate and warm like a spring breeze, pretty like the flowers that bloom at her feet.” He sighed wistfully as he took her by both hands, clasping them in his gently. Persy glanced around to see if anyone else was seeing this, but no one seemed to pay them any mind. That was all the proof she needed. This had to be a hallucination. 

“But also a woman who’s strong of will.” His grip tightened around her hands to emphasize his point. “Firm and unyielding, befitting of a queen who presides over the souls of the underworld.” 

He continued to wax poetic about her name and the sweet timid goddess her mother named her after. _“Loved wholly by her mother. She brought on the blight just to get her home in her arms. Just as I want you back home with me. Always.”_ Persy tried not to gag as she remembered that particular conversation with her mother. Her words still sent a chill spider crawling up her spine.

Sweet analogies tumbled from his lips. He was even bold enough to tell her she resembled the goddess herself. With her umber colored hair that resembled freshly tilled soil. And her deep green eyes ringed with gold, like the leaves surrounding the petals of a sunflower. His words, certainly not hers. He went on and on and at that, Persy could only look on, utterly speechless. What could she say to something like that? 

_"Hey. That’s sweet of you and all, but you’re just a figment of my imagination."_

She didn’t necessarily want him to stop. The way he strung together phrases left her captivated. She got lost in his prose like she would the pages of a good book. He could fill a thousand pages with his words and Persy would never get tired of them. She’d read every single line, twice, and commit them to memory. So, feeling a little self indulgent, she let him continue uninterrupted a while longer.

When he finally stopped, the silence made her ears ring. She could have listened to his languid drawl all day. “I apologize,” he said as his hands fell from hers, “I got carried away, but sometimes I can’t help myself. Your name just struck a chord in my heart and I had to let it all out in a flourish of prose.”

“Oh that’s alright.” She pressed a hand to her chest, willing her heart to stop racing. It refused. “That was beautiful, I mean, nice. Really nice.”

“Well, thank you for listening,” Elliott said as he swept his ponytail over his shoulder, “and it really was a pleasure to meet you, Persephone.” He _needed_ to stop saying her name like that.

“It was nice meeting you too,” she said with a small smile. He mirrored it, showing off those damn dimples again. Persy suddenly felt incredibly warm. She ducked her head in a vain attempt to hide the blush that blossomed across her cheeks. “I should head back though,” she nodded toward the others on the other side of the beach, “I’m sure we’ll see each other around, when I’m not breaking my back on the farm.”

Elliott chuckled. “Well, don’t work too hard now,” he said, “it’s important to enjoy the sweet pleasures that come with living life. I recommend taking a walk through the Cindersap Forest. It’s truly inspiring.” Persy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She would live a long happy life if she never saw another tree for the rest of her life, but he probably didn’t care to know about her life story. And she didn’t have the energy to prattle on about the intricacies of her deeply rooted hate of trees. So, she feigned a pleasant expression instead.

“Until we meet again.” He pressed a quick kiss to the back of her hand and turned to go start another bizarre conversation with someone else.

Before she could convince herself to go after him and demand answers to the questions swirling around in her head, Persy spun on her heel and made her way back towards the others. She considered leaving. Her head spun and she could probably benefit from a nap. Then maybe she’d stop having strange hallucinations like that one. She settled next Sebastian, looking utterly perplexed.

He rolled his cigarette between his fingers and said, “I see you finally met Elliott.”

Her attention snapped to him. He gave her a bemused look and pressed his cigarette back between his lips. “Wait,” she said, “you guys can see him too? I thought he was some kind of fever dream.”

Sam chuckled and shook his head. “Nah, that’s just how he is,” he said as he settled back in the sand, arms folded behind his head. “I think he’s been here, what, like a year and a half now?” He glanced at the others for confirmation and they nodded. “He showed up like a year before you did and took up residence in that shitty little cabin. He’s kind of weird, but harmless, ya know.”

Persy smirked at him. “No offense,” she said, “but you guys are also kind of weird.”

“I guess that’s just the kind of people you attract,” Abigail said with a smirk, “so who’s the real weird one here?” Persy laughed and took a sip of her drink. 

“So what was he talking to you about?” Sebastian poked her in the cheek at that and she swatted him away. “You were red as a strawberry the whole time. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that flustered.”

Persy swallowed hard as she glanced back across the beach. Elliott and Leah were in the middle of an excited conversion. He gesticulated dramatically as he spoke. She wondered what kind of tale he wove for her. Or perhaps he was gushing about her name too. He seemed the type to do that. She huffed and tore her gaze from him. Sebastian looked at her expectantly, waiting for an answer. 

“Oh, just a lot of weird flowery nonsense about a lot of different things,” she lied easily. God, she’d die of embarrassment if they knew he gushed about her name for several minutes. Or compared her to a goddess. Yeah, they definitely couldn’t know about that. She’d never hear the end of it. “I was more confused than anything.”

Sebastian arched an eyebrow at her. He didn’t believe her and they both knew it, but he didn’t press. “Yeah, okay, whatever,” he took another drag of his cigarette and continued, “want to hear the story about when Sam dumped a pound of anchovies in the communal pot?”

Sam gasped, “it’s a great story! And the punishment was totally worth it.”

And just like that, the subject was dropped. Persy shoved all thoughts of the farm and her dwindling funds from her mind. She could focus on those things later, but right now, she let herself get swept up in the festival and her friends. Elliott had a point. She needed to enjoy the pleasures that came with living life. Her problems could wait until tomorrow. She tried not to look back at Elliott. She tried to push thoughts of him out of her mind as well. He wasn’t worth a second though. She smirked and let her head fall against Sebastian’s shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her and drew her into the crook of his arm. 

“Lay it on me,” she said, “how much trouble did you get in?”

✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵

“So have you thought about what you’re going to do for extra cash?”

Persy sighed as she pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it unceremoniously off to the side. Sebastian ran his hands up and over her shoulders as he peppered kisses down her throat. “No,” she managed as she slipped her bra off and threw it to join her shirt on the ground. He hummed contentedly as he took one of her breasts in his hand and squeezed softly. “None of the jobs around here really sound appealing. But maybe I’m being too picky.”

“You are,” he mumbled against her freckled skin, “but I get it. Who would want to run a farm and work part-time at a shitty job?”

He dragged his tongue over the curves of her breast. Her back arched up off the bed as pleasure pooled in the pit of her stomach. “But I have to think of something,” she managed through a gasp, “otherwise I’ll be back in Grampleton by the end of the year. That’s the last thing I want.”

“You could always go back to Zuzu City. You were making good money at Joja weren’t you?” he offered, “that’s what I’d do.” And with that he latched onto one of her nipples and swirled his tongue until it was a hardened peak. Persy let her head fall back against his pillow, the smell of cigarettes and pine clung to it. Sebastian’s scent. A moan tumbled from her lips. She didn’t want to talk about her problems. She came to Sebastian for a distraction.

This arrangement between them started a little over two months ago. When Persy realized her crops had yet to grow, she rushed to Sebastian in the middle of the night near tears. He did his best to comfort her in the only way he knew how. Blatant disassociation and drowning their sorrows with alcohol. They sat by the lake outside his house, sipping on a bottle of whiskey he snagged from his parent’s liquor cabinet. 

Maybe it was the ambiance of the lake. The fireflies that skimmed along the water’s surface. And the way their light reflected in his dark eyes. Or it was the fresh smell of salmonberries that mixed with his scent and left her head spinning. Or it might have been the booze. Scratch that. It was definitely the booze. But it wasn’t long before they ditched their clothes and fucked each other like wild animals in heat. Neither of them slept that night.

After that, Sebastian offered to be a distraction. When the stress of the farm became too much, she could come to him and they’d do… things like this. She liked him. She really did. And he liked her. But they were just friends. The sex was pretty great. She’d go as far as to say mind blowing. Sebastian really knew how to use that tongue of his and the little metal stud, Yoba, that piercing was unreal. But aside from that, she didn’t feel anything beyond sexual attraction for him. 

And though he hadn’t said anything outright, Sebastian seemed to share those sentiments. In fact, she was fairly certain that he needed this distraction as much as she did. His home life left something to be desired. Robin was a delight and one of the few reasons Persy still had food on the table. Her generosity was unreal when it came to loading her up with casseroles and cobblers. But his step-father, Demetrius, was a piece of work. So, she didn’t mind distracting him in kind.

“If I go back to Zuzu, that’s just going to prove my mom was right.”

Sebastian paused his ministrations. “But she was right, wasn’t she? You can’t grow a crop to save your life.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Just because it’s true, doesn’t mean you have to say it, asshole.”

Sebastian chuckled and continued his kissing conquest down her navel and towards the real prize. He teased the band of her panties with nimble fingers and her skin pebbled at the contact. Yoba, she needed him between her thighs. “Can we not talk about this,” she nearly begged, breathless, “you’re supposed to fuck me with your tongue, remember?”

“I’m getting there,” he said as he nipped at her hip bones. She bucked her hips, desperate for a little more friction, but he kept her firmly planted in place with his hands. “I just wanted to see if you had a plan.”

“You and I both know that I don’t,” she managed through gritted teeth, “so are you going to fuck me or what?”

“Oh?” Sebastian settled between her thighs and pressed a hot open mouthed kiss directly over her heat. She nearly purred in response. “Sit back and relax buttercup,” he said as he nuzzled against her clit with his nose, “by the time I’m finished with you, you won’t even remember your name.”

His words sent a jolt of electricity running up her spine. Forgetting her own name sounded enticing. It was another reminder of the power her mother held over her. She gave it to her. She hated her name, or at least she had... 

_"A name as beautiful as yours should never be shortened."_

She quickly shoved Elliott’s words from her head. She clamped down on the feelings that swirled in her chest and smothered them like a flame. No, she wouldn’t think about him. Elliott was little more than a blip on her radar. He wasn’t even a consideration. Not with Sebastian nestled between her legs. Not with Sebastian tugging off her panties and licking his lips like he was about to dine on the most delicious meal. Not with Sebastian and that _fucking tongue piercing_.

“F-Forgetting my own name.” Her voice wobbled. God damn it. “Is that a promise?”

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see. Hope you’re ready for a long night, because I have plans.”

“With you, isn’t it always a long night?”

He smirked up at her, giving her one of those heavily lidded stares that left her wanting. Sebastian wasn’t unattractive. Quite the opposite. His slim frame and dark eyes worked for him. And his whole gothic vibe was definitely an aesthetic she could get behind. As far as flings went, she couldn’t have picked a better candidate. He was the only thing that seemed to work in her favor these days.

He traced languid circles on the insides of her thighs with his fingers. She suppressed the shudder that tingled at the base of her spine. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She winked at him. “You should.”

He returned it and buried himself between her folds like some kind of starving animal. And maybe he was. They hadn’t done anything like this since the Luau Festival almost two weeks ago because of a few hiccups with one of his freelance projects. They usually met up two or three times a week. Her reaction was immediate and visceral. Persy groaned and let the pleasure sweep her away. 

Away from the farm. Away from Pelican Town. Away from her problems. 

They eddied down the drain with each lap of his tongue, with each brush of that delicious metal stud on her clit. He coaxed her first orgasm from her with relative ease and she went over the edge with a moan. No name on her lips. There was never a name. Sebastian never said hers either. She preferred it that way. He didn’t give her any time to recover before he immediately delved into working her towards another sweet release. They were in for a long night indeed. 

It wasn’t long before she forgot everything, including her name.


	2. Better with Company

Okay. Persy couldn’t hide behind any more distractions.

Persy needed to get back to work. She needed to find solutions. And more specifically, she needed to clear out some more of this god damn forest. A forest that was once her grandfather’s farm. When she arrived at Spring Green Farm, the land had been overrun with trees and plants after almost a decade of disuse. Most of her time had been spent clearing the thicket growing at her doorstep. She had no idea what lurked deeper in, but she’d already stumbled across the remnants of a greenhouse and a cave into the mountainside that she pointedly ignored.

She grunted as she hoisted another log over her shoulder. The muscles in her arms screamed, but she powered through as she carried it towards the small pile accumulating at the edge of the woods. The motions were practiced, almost mechanical at this point. As much as Persy hated to admit it, she understood trees far better than she understood crops. Her family owned the largest sawmill in Grampleton - Chastain and Sons. She wasn’t one of the sons, but she was expected to marry some strong lumberjack to add another son to the docket. She failed in that regard too.

She grew up in the forest, surrounded by lumber and saplings and sawdust. If there was anything she knew how to do, it was swing an axe. She learned how at the ripe age of seven. Her childhood was spent chopping firewood and lugging it around the neighborhood to fulfill orders for her parents. Wood came easy. Trees came easy. It was every other kind of plant that she seemed to struggle with.

She set the log with the others and wiped the sweat from her brow. Maybe she should go home. At least in Grampleton, her family would pay her to cut down trees. She glanced around the small clearing. She worked all morning and made some decent headway. Maybe she could scrounge up a little money to buy a few more seeds from Pierre later this week and try again.

“Third times the charm,” she muttered under her breath.

She paused, eyes falling on a small gap in the trees that led deeper into the woods. She didn’t notice it before now, but there was no mistaking that it was a path. She could see the remnants of cobblestone under the mess of vines and brush that bled across the forest floor. She glanced down at her watch and hummed. She had time to do a little exploring. Who knows, maybe she’d find another cool little piece of the past.

She made her way down the path, hands stuffed in the pockets of her mud-stained coveralls. She listened. Small woodland creatures scuttled through the branches overhead, hopping from one tree to another. The leaves rustled overhead, a song that often lulled her to sleep through an open window when she was young. She never flinched at the snap of twigs and loose rocks underfoot anymore. Just another sound of the forest - the song of her childhood and the life she left behind.

The path eventually opened up into a small area lined with a crumbling stone fence. At the back of the clearing, she noted the framework of what she assumed was a warehouse. She tried and failed to hide her surprise as she took in her surroundings. More trees grew within the fenced-in area. But they differed from the pine and oak that towered overhead. Smaller and more gnarled, blossoming with pretty pink and white flowers. She blinked, instantly recognizing what she stumbled across.

Fruit trees.

“Oh shit,” she breathed as she hopped over the fence to get a better look.

Neatly planted trees formed uniform lines. She brushed aside some of the dirt and debris that littered the path with the toe of her boot and noted the cobblestone beneath her feet. A deliberate design choice so she had to assume this was her grandfather’s doing. She glanced over at the unfinished warehouse and her heart wrenched. And that it was a project he never got the chance to finish. Always working hard, up until the very end.

She brushed her fingers over one of the white blossoms. The petals were soft as silk under the pads of her fingers. After years living a life surrounded by trees, Persy had a deeply rooted hate for them and all they stood for. _"Trees have deep roots, much like the Chastain family has deep roots here in Grampleton. You wouldn't want to ruin generations of hard work, do you?"_ She shuddered and pulled away from the blossom as if it had burned her. Working with fruit trees... it would be relying on her family. It would prove she couldn't do it alone - and she loathed to think they were right all along. She regarded at the orchard, a frown toying on her lips. 

But... This was an opportunity presenting itself. And Persy was pretty desperate.

She reached for the blossom again. She leaned in a little closer and the fragrant smell of apples burned at her nose. Apples. She could work with apples. 

“When life gives you lemons…” she paused and amended, “when it gives you apples, you make apple juice.”

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Persy perused the books on the shelf with mild intrigue. Gunther mentioned a lot of the bigger volumes were missing after the previous curator made off with most of the collection, so she hoped they had what she was looking for. Otherwise, she’d be making a trek to Zuzu in the next few days. She still couldn’t understand why someone would steal a library's inventory, but Gunther offered no answers beyond a noncommittal grunt and a wave of dismissal when she’d asked. She traced the spines of the books with her finger, muttering the titles under her breath.

_Down the Garden Path, Planting: A New Perspective, Peonies and Pansies: Flowers and You…_

Useful, but not quite what she was looking for. She huffed and tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. She couldn’t find anything about cultivating fruit trees. After a cursory walk through the old orchard, she could already see that some of the trees would bear fruit by the end of the season. It was a start, but she couldn’t just let mother nature, or the stupid crop fairies, or whatever, take the reins this time around. If she wanted a successful harvest, she’d have to learn how to tend to these kinds of trees.

“Ah, well, if it isn’t the beautiful goddess of spring.”

Persy’s heart leapt into her throat. She whirled around to face Elliott. He gave her a bemused look, cradling several books in his arms. His hair was down today, swept off to one side and framing his sharp jaw like the stroke of red ink. “Elliott,” she gasped, “you scared me half to death.”

He gave her an apologetic smile as he adjusted the books in his arms. “My apologies,” he said, “you just had the most determined look on your face and I just had to know what was running through that brilliant mind of yours." He tilted his head off to one side and said in earnest, "A penny for your thoughts?”

Persy scratched sheepishly at the nape of her neck and shook her head. “I wouldn’t call myself brilliant, quite the opposite actually,” she said with a thin smile, “if that were the case, I wouldn’t have thrown my life away to chase this stupid path of independence.”

He furrowed his brow at her. “What do you mean?”

“Being a farmer is a lot harder than I anticipated,” she admitted, “I think I’m in over my head. I thought the library would steer me in the right direction, but I think I’m in over my head here too.” She gestured to the shelves around them and Elliott followed the sweeping motion of her hand. He looked just as troubled as she felt. A feeling that resonated constantly at the back of her mind like the buzzing of insects. It made it hard to focus these days. She'd do anything to make that feeling go away. “I’m just a little lost.” She shrugged and stuffed her hands in the pockets of her jeans.

“Did you want some help?” he offered, “I spend a lot of my time here, so I’m pretty well versed in the layout of this place. I could probably find what you’re looking for.”

Persy tilted her head off to one side. “In that case,” she said, “do you know any good books about trees?”

A smile toyed on his lips, struggling to hold back his laughter. “There’s a number of books on trees, so you’ll have to be a little more specific I’m afraid.”

“Fruit trees,” Persy amended, “more specifically, maintaining an orchard. I stumbled across the remnants of one while clearing the farm. And even though I know a fair bit about forests and lumber, cultivating fruit is a little outside my wheelhouse.”

Elliott hummed his ascent. “Well then,” he buzzed his lips and glanced around, “you weren’t too far off, but the books you’re looking for are the next row over.” He nodded to the next aisle over. “If you’ll follow me, we’ll get you set up with the finest books on fruit trees this town can afford.” He leaned in real close and added, “which isn’t saying much. They have a pathetic selection.”

Persy chuckled as she followed Elliott into the next aisle. He managed to find a few books on maintaining an orchard. He even threw in a book on how to make wine from different kinds of fruit. “You know, for when you’ve got too much fruit on your hands,” he said with a wink. 

Her heart swelled in her chest as she ran her hand over the cover of the book. How was Elliott better at thinking ahead than she was? He really had his life together and she was just… a mess. 

“These are exactly what I’m looking for.” She beamed up at him. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course,” he said with a proud smile, “I’m happy to help a maiden in need. Now.” He gestured to a set of worn leather armchairs pushed against the far wall. “Shall we dig into the fruits of our labors together. I find that reading with good company can be better than reading alone.”

Persy peered between the books in her hand and him. She planned on spending the rest of her day reading these curled up on her couch with a cup of tea and her cat sleeping at her feet, but the hopeful look in Elliott’s eye was enough to make her reconsider. It didn’t matter where she did her reading. She could hang out for an hour or two, then head back home to finish up there.

“Sure,” she said as she followed him towards the armchairs, “so what’s your poison?”

He glanced fondly down at the books in his hands as they settled into their chairs. There were a range of titles and none of them necessarily related. Different genres, some fiction, some non-fiction. There didn’t seem to be a rhyme or reason to his choices. “Just some research for the novel I’m writing.”

She straightened in her seat. “You’re writing a novel?” That explained a lot.

He sighed wistfully. “Well, writing a novel is a strong word for what I’ve been doing,” he said with a laugh, “seeing as I haven’t actually written anything yet. It’s just a lot of ideas swirling around in my mind much like a kaleidoscope, pretty and colorful, but nothing makes a lot of sense yet.”

“Have you always wanted to be a writer?”

Elliott considered this, drumming his fingers along the book in his lap. _The History of the Railcar._ “I suppose I have, but I just recently decided to pursue it,” he said thoughtfully, “you see, my family didn’t support my dreams of becoming a writer and it took me a while to realize that I didn’t need their approval to do what I loved.” Persy blinked at him. His family was holding him back as well. How candid of him to tell her outright. “Up until fairly recently, I was still lost in this swirling abyss we call life. Some could argue that I still am. I’m still trying to figure things out, much like you.”

“But you’re so old.” 

Elliott’s pleasant expression fractured into a million pieces and fell. “W-What?”

She gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth. “That came out so wrong,” her words were muffled through her hand, “I just meant, like you look so mature and put together, and oh god this sounds really bad, doesn’t it… I just meant... I am _so_ sorry. You’re not old. I mean, I don’t know how old you are, but一”

“I’m only twenty-nine.” He sounded, rightfully, defensive.

Persy paused and regarded Elliott thoughtfully. “Twenty-nine?” He nodded, still looking self-conscious as he gently traced the cut of his jaw. A jaw so sharp, she could probably cut jewels on it. He did _not_ need to feel self-conscious about his looks. He was a gorgeous specimen. God-like even. She had half a mind to tell him as much, but she already dug her bed. She didn’t want to make things worse. She didn’t mean to call him old. Because he wasn’t. Older than her, yes, but not old old. She just expected someone like him would have his life figured out. The fact that he didn’t was shocking. 

A painfully awkward silence settled between them. 

“I’m twenty-three,” she offered with a nervous laugh, “if it’s any consolation for offending you, because you’re most definitely not old, you’re welcome to make fun of me for being a naïve brat or whatever.”

Elliott’s expression was hard to read as he traced the golden filigree on the cover of his book. “I would never make fun of you, my dear Persephone. You are neither naïve or a brat. Just like you said I’m not old.” He smiled at her after a moment and she felt the tension in her shoulders ease a fraction. If he was smiling that meant he couldn’t be _that_ upset with her. A small consolation all things considered.

“Now then,” he said as he settled back in his seat, “we have quite a bit of reading to do, shall we get started?”

She nodded. “Right, yeah, let’s read.”

A more comfortable silence settled between them as they read. Persy devoured the books Elliott found for her. She never imagined fruit trees could be so fascinating, but she got lost in the whirlwind of information. She filled several pages of her journal with notes on how to tend to their needs. As soon as she finished one of the books, she jumped right into another, and before she knew it, hours had passed and the sun had long since disappeared from the sky. Gunther kicked them out a half hour past closing. They quickly checked out their books and hurried out of the library. The lights went off as soon as they cleared the door. 

They chuckled to themselves as they began the walk back towards town, toting their unfinished books in their arms. “I love getting lost in a good story,” he said with a small smile, “it seems you do too?”

Persy nodded in agreement. “I love reading, so it’s been known to happen.”

“Oh really, what’s your favorite genre?”

Persy hummed, the heat rising up in her cheeks. “It’s kind of embarrassing,” she admitted, her voice barely loud enough to be heard over the babble of the river beside them, “but I love a good romance novel. There’s something nice about getting lost in the throes of passion, I guess.”

“That’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Elliott insisted with a wave of his hand, “romance is the cornerstone of many classical pieces of literature. Even when they focus on a different genre, romance is almost always entwined through the story. Who doesn’t want to feel a little tug at their heartstrings? To experience it, even if it’s on the page of a book.”

She smiled at him and he mirrored it. “I guess you’re right,” she said, “but why do you ask?”

He shrugged. “Just curious. I still haven’t settled on a genre for my book yet, so I figured I’d see what people like. Romance is always a good option. People say I have a way with flowery language, though I can’t imagine why they’d think that. I’m quite bland when compared to the greats.”

“I’d have to disagree with you,” she said with a chuckle, “or did you forget our first meeting? You gushed about my name for five minutes straight. Nothing about that was bland, trust me.”

In the dim light, Persy swore she saw Elliott blush as he said, “well, I told you, it struck a chord within me. With the right muse, the wells of my creativity flow free.” Persy blinked. Did he just call her a muse? Elliott cleared his throat softly and quickly added, “a beautiful flower on the side of the forest path, a particularly pretty shell outside my home, inspiration strikes in the most unlikely of places. And your name was that tiny spark that set my inspiration on fire that day.”

Persy clucked her tongue. “Right. That makes sense.” She tried to hide her disappointment as she took a step away from him. “Well, if you ever need to bounce ideas off someone, I’m around,” she said as her grip tightened around her books, “but I should head home. Dorian is probably up and waiting for me.”

He furrowed his brow. “Dorian? Is he your…”

She waved her hands quickly in front of her, already knowing the rest of the question. She’d gotten that strange look on more than one occasion. “He’s my cat, Dorian Gray. He’s sleek and gorgeous. A bit of an old geezer, but he still acts like a spry young thing - hence the name,” she explained with a nervous laugh, “sorry, that can catch a lot of people off guard.”

“Your cat?” He visibly relaxed and said, “A strange name, but unique, much like yourself.”

She shrugged. “I did say I like books. If I ever make enough money to afford livestock on the farm,” she wagged her finger at him, “just you wait, the names will be ridiculous. I’ve got a list.”

“Well, I hope you reach that milestone very soon. I’d love to see the names you’ve come up with,” he said with a nod towards her books, “but in the meantime, good luck on your endeavors with the orchard. I’m sure it’ll bear fruit for the goddess of spring.” He offered her a small bow. An honest to god bow. Persy resisted the urge to shake her head. What era was he from? 

“Goodnight Persephone. I hope we run into each other again soon.”

“You have a good night,” she said with a wave, “good luck on your book.”

He hummed in response and made his way south towards the beach. Persy watched him until he disappeared around the corner and only then did she let herself start back towards the farm. She felt good after a day of research. She’d get started on cleaning up the orchard in the morning. And after that, she’d start tending to the blossoms. She was already making a mental checklist.

Maybe she could do this after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading - I have more planned for this story, so don't worry. Persy isn't done being a hot mess yet!


	3. Night Out

Friday nights at the Stardrop Saloon were Persy’s chance to unwind after a long week. She often joined her friends for a few games of pool in the small room off the side of the main dining room. Between games she’d gorge herself on red wine and Gus’ famous zucchini fritters. She skipped the fritters that evening, like she had the last few weeks in an attempt to save a little extra money. 

A plate of said fritters was waiting for her when she arrived that evening. She blinked down in surprise. Her stomach gurgled at the sight of them alone, but the smell had her mouth watering. She decided it must have been the work of some kind of food fairy. Now, that was a mythical fairy she could get behind. She plucked a fritter from the plate and shoved it into her mouth. Her eyes rolled back in her head and moaned quietly.

Fuck crop fairies and their bullshit, but Persy would gladly sell her soul for a food fairy. 

The boys were already there. Sebastian examined the pool cues along the far wall with Sam. She watched as he reached for one near the end and paused. He teased his lower lip between his teeth as he seemed to reconsider and reached for the one beside it instead. He examined the tip with a hum of satisfaction and turned around. 

They locked eyes and then his gaze fell to the fritter halfway in her mouth. He smirked and mouthed a ‘you’re welcome’, She stuck out her tongue at him and he snorted as he made his way to the pool table. Persy tried to hide her flush of embarrassment as she shoved the fritter into her mouth and chewed. She knew it - a food fairy was too good to be true. It was just Sebastian. He was more like a food gremlin.

Abigail arrived fashionably late, as always, and made a beeline for Journey of the Prairie King. She claimed loudly that this would be the week she finally beat Sebastian’s high score. She made that claim every week and every week she fell short of her goals, but she never gave up. One had to admire her determination though.

Persy joined Sam and Sebastian for the first few games of pool. Two against one normally wouldn’t be fair, but people who thought that had never played against Sebastian. He had a knack for games and he took each and every one of them seriously. Hence why he had the high score in all the arcade games and always wiped the floor with Sam at pool every week.

Persy set her cue aside after losing yet another game with Sam and pushed herself out of her seat. “I’m going to go get another drink. Don’t wait up.”

Sebastian glanced up from the table. “Want me to come with you?” _Want me to pay for you_ , was what he didn’t need to ask.

She shook her head. “Nah,” she said, “you just keep beating Sam’s ass at pool. It’s what you do best.”

He winked and fixed her with one of those sensuous smirks that made her toes curl. “It’s not just pool that I’m good at, buttercup.” Desire pooled in the pit of her stomach. She recognized that look all too well. That’s the look he gave her when he wanted to fuck against the closet hard surface. She hadn’t approached him since finding the orchard. There was too much to do to get the trees ready for the fall. But that didn’t mean she hadn’t thought about him. About that piercing.

“Oh really,” she purred, “care to give me a demonstration?” 

Sebastian’s eyes darkened with lust. Oh. Yeah. He planned on fucking her that evening and Persy was more than willing to oblige. She’d be surprised if they made it back to his house before he pounced on her, not that she minded. It wouldn’t be the first time they ducked behind some trees and got each other off.

“Gross,” Sam said with a roll of his eyes. He made a face as he lined up his cue with one of the balls. He struck and cue ball cracked uselessly between two balls. He groaned and sank back on his heels. “Can you guys stop fucking each other with your eyes and just date already?”

Persy shared an amused look with Sebastian that the others didn’t notice. As if Sebastian and her would ever date. Unlikely. She casually flipped Sam off as she strolled into the main dining room. “Go fuck yourself, respectfully.”

Abigail snorted, eyes still glued to the monitor of the game. “ _Respectfully._ ”

She slipped into one of the seats at the bar and tried to wave Gus or Emily down, but they were already helping a few of the others. She slid her empty wine glass across the bar and waited. Around her, the rest of the town gathered in small groups, a cacophonous mix of voices, laughter, and chinking glasses. It was nights like this that made her enjoy Pelican Town. She loved the sense of community in this town and the charm of the people living there, even people like Shane and Pam made it special.

“Persephone!” Elliott settled into the barstool beside her and smiled. He was without his coat this evening, a strange sight to say the least. The sleeves of his white button up were rolled up around his elbows and the tips of his fingers were stained with ink. No doubt coming from the pen stuck in the haphazard bun on the top of his head. He looked positively harried, but surprisingly content. 

“We seem to be running into each other more often these days.” 

“I guess so,” Persy said as she twisted a curl sheepishly around her finger. It was true. Now that she made headway on the orchard, she had more free time in the evenings, so she wandered over to the library to check out their book selection every so often. Mostly to kill time, but she considered it a good day if she bumped into Elliott, which was more often than not. They spent their time reading until Gunther kicked them out. She enjoyed reading with good company.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you at the saloon before,” she cradled her cheek in the palm of her hand, “what’s the occasion?”

Elliott beamed. “A successful writing session. I just finished an eight hour stint and I thought I’d celebrate with a drink.” He waved down Gus. “Can I get you something? Like reading, a celebratory drink is always better with company.”

“Oh, you don’t have to buy me anything. I was just about to get my own drink.”

“I insist. Do you drink wine? They have a lovely pinot grigio imported from the vineyards outside Castle Village. You have to try it.” Persy opened her mouth to protect, but Elliott was already waving down Gus and requested two glasses. The Saloon owner made quick work of pouring their drinks. “You’ll love it. It’s perfectly dry with a hint of almond as an aftertaste. The region is known for the almond taste.”

Gus slid the glasses of wine across the bar and Persy took hers in hand and raised it up. “Shall we toast? In honor of your writing,” she offered, “or perhaps to our new friendship?”

He chinked his glass on hers. “To our friendship, may it blossom like fruits on your trees,” he said with a tender smile. He raised the glass to his lips and Persy did the same. Sure enough, the wine was dry with a slight almondy taste that lingered on her tongue. Elliott knew his wine. She’d have to keep that in mind when she launched phase two of her plan. He might have some pointers on what made a good wine.

“So,” she said as she set her glass back down, “as part of your celebration this evening, would you like to join us for a game or two?” She nodded back towards the game room where the others were still in the midst of their pool game. Sam swore loudly and it resonated in the dining room, drawing a few looks of disgust from the older patrons. “Sebastian is really good, but he might go easy on you.” Sebastian would never insult an opponent like that, but Elliott didn’t need to know that.

He followed her gaze and frowned. “I think I’ll pass this evening,” he mused softly, “I don’t want to ruin your fun.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Why would you ruin my fun?”

He traced the rim of his wine glass with weary resignation. A few strands of his hair had begun to fall from his bun and curled around his shoulders. “Well, you see, you guys are so young and energetic. Playing your games and cracking your hip modern jokes.” Persy resisted the urge to snort. He obviously didn’t know her friends if he thought they were hip and modern. Abigail studied the art of the blade. Sebastian collected vintage comic books. And Sam only wore clothes made back when his parents were teenagers. Neither hip, nor cool by most people's standards.

“I just feel like I’d bring down the mood.”

Persy placed a hand over his. He straightened in his seat, eyes falling to their overlapped hands. “I thought we already established that you aren’t an old geezer.”

Elliott huffed on a laugh. “I suppose we did, didn’t we? Still...” 

He slipped his hand out from beneath hers. Persy resisted the urge to reach for his hand again. To assure him that he was fun and that she enjoyed his company a lot more than he realized. “There’s still that gap and I don’t know if I’d necessarily fit in,” he admitted, “to be quite honest, I never really fit in with younger people.”

She tilted her head at him. “Well, I like hanging out with you don’t I?”

He breathed on a laugh. “Yes, I suppose you do,” he said as he raised his glass back to his lips. Unlike his first sip, he took a generous gulp this time around. He pressed his lips into a thin line and set the glass back on the beaten bar. “And for that I’m grateful, but I still think I’m going to decline the invitation.”

She deflated. She felt terrible. Her stupid mouth made Elliott think he was too old to hang out with her and her friends. If anything, she wanted to hang out with him more. How did he act around other people? As far as she knew, his only other friends were Leah and Willy. Leah was just as odd as he was, so that made sense. And Willy was middle-aged, so that checked out too. 

Did he act differently around them? Did he ever let loose? Did he ever go buck wild?

“Of course,” she took her glass and slipped out of her seat, “then I should head back, but congratulations on making headway on your book. If you ever need someone to proofread, I’m your gal.”

“Hey.” She paused and glanced back at him curiously. He toyed with a strand of hair, winding and unwinding it around his finger. “I know I declined this evening, but I would be interested in hanging out next week? If you’re available, that is. I’d love to see the headway your making in the orchard. Apple season is almost here, right?”

She tried to hide her surprise. No one ever asked to stop by the farm. Not even Sebastian showed an interest in seeing what she’d done with the place. They just assumed it was a wreck all the time, which it was. Still, it was flattering that Elliott was interested in exploring the grounds with her. 

“I would absolutely love that,” she beamed at him, “the apples are supposed to be blooming in the next two weeks. Why don’t you stop by then? I’ll give you the grand tour.”

“Then it’s a date,” Elliott said with an exuberant wave of his hand, “why don’t I come just before dinner and we can make an evening out of it?”

Her smile widened. “Sounds like a plan.” She waved and turned to head back into the game room. 

Sebastian and Sam were waiting for her when she returned, wearing matching feline grins. Dread pooled in her stomach. She hated when they smiled like that. Sam leaned against the pool table and asked, “So, what’d Elliott want this time?”

“God,” she said with a roll of her eyes, “don’t you guys have more interesting things to worry about?”

“You always come back red in the face after you’re finished talking to him,” Sebastian observed with a tilt of his head, “so what were you guys talking about?” Persy searched his face, but his expression was hard to read. There wasn’t anything jealous in his tone, just blatant curiosity. “Can’t just be nonsense or whatever bullshit reason you gave last time?”

“You guys are worse than our moms,” Abigail scoffed, “two gossipy bitches, I swear.”

“I would make a damn good housewife,” Sam said with a smirk.

Abigail snorted. “Gotta find someone who will put up with your bullshit first.”

“What did Elliott want?” Sebastian continued to watch her, eyes still hooded as they traced the contours of her body. She tried not to rub her thighs together in anticipation for the evening ahead.

“He wants to see the farm, that’s all.” Persy grabbed her cue stick and approached the table. Her cheeks burned harder now and no doubt they noticed. “Now get off my back.” She didn’t care who was solids and who was stripes. She lined up her shot and struck. The cue ball hit one of the stripes and it disappeared down one of the far holes.

“Hey what the fuck,” Sam snapped, “ _I’m_ solids. You’re supposed to be on my team, remember?”

“Well then, be sure to knock two in for me,” she said with a wink. Sam snarled at her and turned his attention back to the table. She doubted he’d get one in.

She made her way back towards the couch and leaned against the arm with a huff. Sebastian sidled up beside her and slipped a hand into her back pocket. “My place after this,” he kept his voice low so neither Abigail or Sam heard, “I’m in desperate need of a distraction.”

She smirked. “I can make some time in my schedule.”

He squeezed her ass once and she hummed contentedly. She liked his hands too, right after his tongue. “Hope you’re ready for a long night,” he teased, “because I want you to ride me into the sunset.”

Persy snorted. “Thanks. I hate it.”

Sebastian snickered. “You won’t when I’m done with you. I promise.” 

She suppressed the shudder that spider-crawled up her spine. He always made good on his promises. She watched as he slipped away to take his turn, but she didn’t linger on the way his jeans hugged his ass like she normally did. No. Instead, Persy glanced back through the door that led into the dining room. Elliott was sitting alone at the bar, sipping at his wine. An empty glass already in front of him. Her heart sank at the sight. 

A part of her wanted to go over there and insist he play a game with them. But she didn’t want to force him into something he wasn’t comfortable with. So, she stayed rooted in place, watching him. But the longer she did, the more her heart ached for him. 

She and Elliott, they weren’t so different after all. They both wanted to make their own way in the world and achieve their own dreams without being coddled by others… well, maybe that last part was just her. In a way, their desires alienated them from others. Persy from her family and Elliot from, well, everyone. Perhaps it was a good thing that they found each other...

She tore her gaze away from Elliott and scoffed. No. That was such a sappy sentiment that only existed in cliche romance novels. As much as Elliott looked the part, this wasn’t some cheesy novel. Relying on Elliott was just as bad as relying on her family or on Joja Corps. And she couldn’t do that to him. If she wanted to find success, she had to find it on her own.

She needed a distraction. Her gaze fell to Sebastian who offered her another one of those sensuous smirks. She purred and settled back against the couch. And that’s exactly what she would get.

✵✵✵✵✵✵

Persy jumped Sebastian the moment his bedroom door closed behind them. She attacked his mouth with vigor, a mess of teeth and tongue. He ran his hand down the curve of her spine until her grabbed a handful of her ass. “I’ve been staring at this all night,” he squeezed to emphasize his point, “you just had to wear the tight jeans and you just had to bend in front of me while we were playing pool. It drove me crazy.”

“Oh honey, I thought you had a little more self control,” she said as she rolled her hips against his, “how was I supposed to know you wanted me that badly? I would have worn that skirt I know you love. The one with the zippers down the front of it.”

Sebastian groaned against her lips. “I need to be inside you.” 

“I need you inside me.”

“Then let’s get to the main event, shall we?” He scooped her up in his arms, an impressive feat considering she stood at least a head taller than him.

He laid her splayed out across his deep burgundy comforter and only took a moment to admire her before he tugged his sweatshirt over his head. Persy eagerly followed suit with her cable knit sweater. Piece by piece, they shucked their clothing until there was nothing left between them. 

She admired the pair of bat wings spread wide across his clavicle. She traced the arch of the swooping arches of the inked design with her finger and he shuddered under her touch. The tattoo was one of the main reasons he wore the hoodie like it was an extension of his very being. If his mom saw it… well, she’d flip and he’d be on lumber toting duty for a month.

He ran a finger down her folds and collected her juices before dipping inside her. Persy threw her head back and moaned. He worked her open, quickly adding another finger to join the first, while his thumb drew fast tight circles around her clit. She ground down against his fingers, matching his rhythm. She could already feel the white hot coil tightening in the pit of her stomach.

“You’re always so wet for me,” his breath tickled her ear, “tell me, it’s the piercing isn’t it?” He licked a strip down the column of her neck and she felt that little metal stud against her skin.

She sighed and craned her neck to give him better access. He took full advantage and attacked her neck with kisses and bites. “It’s definitely the piercing,” she said, “one hundred and ten percent the sexiest thing I’ve experienced.” She knotted her fingers through his hair and tugged hard. 

He growled in response and sank his teeth into the area between her neck and shoulder. A wanton moan slipped past her lips as he traced the crescent shaped mark, soothing the sting of his bite. “Get inside me,” she snapped, “now.”

His fingers disappeared from inside her as he lined himself up with her entrance. “Are you sure you’re ready? I can alwaysー”

She took another fistful of hair and snarled, “did I fucking stutter, McCarthy?”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Sebastian pushed into her in one fluid motion and Persy hissed as she stretched around him. He swore under his breath, only giving themselves a moment to adjust, before he set an unforgiving pace. They shared one breath as they rocked against each other in earnest, a chorus of heady pants and moans that made her head spin.

She could already feel herself nearing the edge, but Sebastian was right on her heels. His cock throbbed against her walls, already rock hard and searing hot. The heat bled through her and set every part of her essence aflame. He lifted her and angled her hips in a way that left her screaming. Every thrust of his hips pushed her a little closer.

Sebastian leaned in real close and nipped at her earlobe. “Come for me.”

The heat pooling in her stomach flared and she clenched around him. She came, hard and fast. One, two, three thrusts later, she heard Sebastian follow her over the edge with a grunt of his own. No names. Never any names.

Sebastian heaved a sigh of sweet relief and rolled off. Persy curled into his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. Despite glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, he still felt cold as ice against her bare skin which helped soothe the euphoric burn of her orgasm. “Give me a couple minutes,” he mumbled into the crown of her head, “then we can go again.”

“What time do I need to be out?” She traced abstract patterns on his bare chest absently. “We don’t want your mom to see me slinking out in the morning.”

“Would that be so bad?” He said, pulling her a little closer. “I’m an adult. You’re an adult. We can do what we want.” He pressed a kiss along her hairline, then her forehead, then the tip of her nose. She giggled and pushed his face away. “Should I be offended that you’re thinking about leaving so soon?” God, she loved the husky lilt of his voice after sex.

“I just want to know when my ass is getting kicked to the curb.” She stuck out her tongue at him and he mirrored it. Yeah… they were definitely adults. “You’re a child.”

“Right back at you, buttercup.” He winked and captured her lips in another kiss. Persy melted against his lips. 

She knew this wasn’t real. This thing between them, it was convenient and fun, but it wasn’t meant to last. They both knew it. Sebastian desperately wanted out of Pelican Town and Persy desperately wanted in. A conflict of interests. It would never work romantically. Persy was naive and stupid, but she still clung to some semblance of realtiy. And that was their reality. But it was soft moments like this that made her question everything. 

Maybe there was something there and they were just too stubborn to see it. Maybe they could make it work. Maybe…

“Why don’t you spend the night?” he offered when they pulled away from each other, “you can duck out when my mom goes to the kitchen to grab a quick lunch around noon. I swear that woman runs on a timeclock sometimes.”

“I have a farm to run.”

Sebastian shrugged. “It’s Saturday and you deserve a little break.” He nuzzled his nose in the crook of her neck and Persy sighed contentedly. A break sounded nice. “I sleep a little better with you anyway.” She paused, her blood turning to ice in her veins. His admission was so quiet that she doubted she heard it at all, but when she peered up at him to gaze at him, the tips of his ears had gone beet red.

She looked him dead in the eye. His expression was unreadable. “Do you want me to spend the night?”

He licked his lips and she saw the flash of that silver stud. “Yes.”

Persy shoved away the voice at the back of her mind that said this was a sign. A sign that things between them were changing. She ignored that voice, no matter how loud it screamed. And it was screaming. She wouldn’t believe it. Things between them couldn’t change. What they did worked and it was uncomplicated and it was an outlet.

A distraction. 

She wouldn’t fuck it up for them by catching feelings. She had enough to worry about. And so did he. But even still, she found herself saying, “alright, but just this once. You’re lucky I already fed Dorian this evening.” Sebastian gave her a soft smile and buried himself back in the crook of her neck. “I still have a farm to run though, so this can’t become a habit.”

“I’ll make it worth your while.” His hand was already slipping down her naval and between her legs. 

Persy hummed contentedly as he slipped two fingers inside her. She let her head fall back and took a moment to enjoy the slow ebb of want that began to pool back in the pit of her stomach. “You’re a menace.”

“But you love it.”

Yes. Yes, she did. And that’s what scared her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading - hope you're enjoying it

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for stopping by my first Stardew Valley fanfiction - I hope you enjoy. Let's just pretend Greek mythology is totally a thing in Stardew Valley, because why not :D Feel free to follow me on tumblr: robingoodfellow94.tumblr.com


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